Chapter 9
Nine
Ari
I sat up quickly with a confused look on my face. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall, and with each second that passed, I could feel the emotional chasm widening between us until my heart broke when he didn’t turn back around.
“You don't want me to touch you? Not at all?” My voice sounded small, filled with more hurt than I’d intended.
I could only see his back, but when he didn’t respond, I leaned forward to get a better look at what he was doing. He wasn’t pacing the floor or running away. It almost looked as if his shoulders were shaking, like he was on the verge of a panic attack.
“Hey, are you alright? Did I do something wrong?”
A low hum filled the room as he shook his head no, but instead of coming back to me, he took two steps further away.
Surely he was lying, but I stayed silent, watching as he sucked in one last shaky breath before letting it out slowly.
He ran his fingers through his hair slowly as he turned back around to face me, but instead of his usually calm exterior, he wore the most serious face I’d ever seen.
But beyond that, it was the look in his eyes that confused me more than anything else.
Was he in pain? Was it a memory? What had he lived through to make him respond like that?
He just stood there, staring with a dozen emotions I couldn’t read flashing across his face, and I didn't know how to make it better.
I opened my mouth to ask him something—anything—but nothing came to mind. What was I supposed to say? I wanted to explain how much I had needed this, or thank him for proving that I wasn’t emotionally broken, but it felt wrong to make this about me.
I just wanted him to be okay.
I couldn’t tell him how I felt… but maybe I could show him.
I expected him to pull away. To recoil at my touch like he had before, but instead, he let me approach him, his eyes fixed on my hands as I tenderly slid three fingers into his waistband.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, my voice slightly hoarse. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”
As I waited for him to answer, I nervously looked up at the man who had consumed my mind, body, and soul since the moment I’d first seen him, aching for the approval I desperately needed him to give.
There was a throbbing in my soul that I wasn't sure I’d ever be able to get over, and the only remedy was more.
How was I already ruined forever, when he’d barely even touched me?
V was silent, but there was no hint of rejection in his body language.
He didn’t pull away or tell me not to continue, so I leaned forward slowly like he was a wild animal I might accidentally scare off, and placed my lips softly onto his.
He didn’t hesitate this time to kiss me back, so I gripped his waistband the best I could manage as I tasted myself on his tongue.
I pushed him backwards until his back thudded against the bedroom wall, dropping to my knees as I looked up to see him watching every move I made.
I grazed over his hipbone with my tongue, humming a laugh from the sounds he made as I nipped his skin with my teeth.
There was only one pant button, so I drew it out, reveling in every response his body made to my touch as I slowly undid his zipper.
He sucked in a sharp breath as I ran my hand down the front of his trousers, my mouth watering for a taste of what was hidden beneath.
I only struggled to pull the fabric down with my wrists tied together for a couple of seconds, but V untied my restraints before I could ask for help. He didn’t move as my hands fell free, but I didn’t waste any time getting what I wanted.
My touch was gentle, but I only watched his face, looking for any sign that he wasn’t enjoying this. With each stroke of my hand, he only clenched his jaw, swallowing once after each sharp breath in.
He never moaned, but his breathing quickened, watching me with enough intensity to make me self-aware of every movement of my fingertips. Slowly I drew the tip to my mouth, humming lightly as my tongue swirled gently over his skin.
I could tell he wanted to break. To shatter at my touch, but his nostrils only flared when I took him deeper. I debated stopping, but he shook slightly as he took fistfuls of my hair, preventing me from pulling away when I tried to.
His breathing was so ragged, I expected any other man would have been overcome with pleasure, but V never took his eyes off mine. I continued until his jaw began to tremble, like he was fighting himself not to respond, and I wondered why. Why not give in? It made no sense.
His body began jerking slightly, just little spasms that told me he was close, so I kept going. It felt almost wrong, doing this to him when I was completely convinced he liked it, but the second unease crept into my mind, he broke.
It was like a switch going off.
One moment he was fully in control, and the next he was gasping for air, moaning with his head pressed against the back of the wall.
His hips rocked as he groaned my name, sending my own waves of pleasure down my spine as he grabbed my hair even tighter.
The air crackled around us as a primal lust overtook him, and all I could do was sit on my knees in awe of the way he was coming undone for me.
His body shuddered beneath my fingertips as wave after wave of pleasure exploded through him, until all I could do was smile at how quickly he had become mine.
— ?? —
The room was already cooling down as my violist sat quietly at his breakfast table, staring at the empty fruit bowl in the center while I stood leaned against the frame of the bathroom door.
The clock behind him said it was nearly three in the morning, and I wasn’t sure where the time had gone.
This was the part that always felt awkward with other men, this post-sex silence, but I didn’t feel that way with him.
Instead, I let my eyes trail over the bedsheets that were still crumpled from where I’d laid on them, and smiled at his red tie still crumpled in a pile on the floor.
His apartment was littered with remnants of our evening, and my chest tightened with uneasiness.
How was our future was so uncertain when I needed it to be the most sure thing in my life?
When I glanced back to V, I let my eyes trail over his hands, watching the way the veins peeked out from behind his rolled up sleeves.
What was he thinking about? He was deep in thought, his face serious as he sat with his fist pressed against his mouth.
Did he regret this? Had I done something wrong?
No, I didn’t think so. He obviously just needed a second to process.
Everything was fine.
“I have to leave,” he said suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up.
“I… Y-you do?” I stammered, trying not to interpret his reaction as rejection, but it stung all the same.
“Please stay,” he said with a small nod, running a hand through his messy hair.
My mind reeled as I tried to process why he was leaving, but I couldn’t. A chill ran down my spine as I fought back the prickle of tears, and the back of my skull tingled at the implication.
“I really don’t have to if you don’t want me to,” I choked out.
“Forgive me. This has nothing to do with you. I want you to stay.”
My knees felt weak as his words echoed around in my mind, and any sense of rejection I’d felt moments before vanished into thin air. He wanted me to stay.
He wanted me.
“You’re sure?” I said, wrapping my arms around the white button-up he had let me borrow.
“Completely. Make yourself at home.”
I watched his face for any hint of a smile, but there wasn’t one.
“Okay.”
He stared for a few seconds longer until I turned the corner of my mouth up, and then he grabbed his black suit jacket off the floor.
The second the door slammed shut, I was left with nothing but the empty void of his space.
Everything smelled like him: the soap in the bathroom, the sheets, the walls.
My eyes scanned the empty apartment, trying to make sense of why he had left in the first place.
The chair he’d been sitting in was still slightly askew, pushed back from the small table like he’d stood up too quickly.
I walked over without thinking to nudge it back into place, the soft scrape of wood against the tile floor sounding far too loud in the quiet room.
The clock kept ticking on, my only friend in the silence.
I told myself it meant something that he'd asked me to stay. People didn’t leave strangers alone in their homes, wrapped in their clothes with bruised lips and the faint remnants of ecstasy between their legs.
If he viewed what we had done as a mistake, he wouldn't have trusted me with the space he clearly guarded so carefully.
Something told me this wasn’t him pushing me away. In fact, he’d done the opposite. He’d asked me to stay. That had to count for something.
As I padded over to his bed, I leaned down to pick up the red tie from the floor, pressing it to my nose as I drew a deep breath in.
Even the soft silk still smelled like him, and my heart pattered with the anticipation of what the future might bring.
Both immediate and long-term. If he wanted me to stay, surely he wasn't finished with me. Would that mean forever?
I climbed onto the mattress slowly, as if moving too fast might break whatever fragile permission still lingered in the air. The sheets were cool now, but they smelled unmistakably like him, and I tangled myself in them, pressing the red tie against my chest as I already missed him.
If he needed space, I could give him that.
If he needed time, I could wait. I’d already waited four years. What was a few more hours.
The thought settled into my bones with surprising ease. I couldn’t remember the last time I wasn't afraid of the quiet. I wasn’t afraid of wanting him more than I should. What frightened me was the idea that this—this careful distance… this restraint—might just be the way he loved.
It made sense to me. A man that uprooted his life to move to a different country, just to play in another unknown orchestra, wasn’t loud.
He was quiet and calculated, and stern, and if it was the way he loved, then I would learn it.
I would learn him. It seemed the smallest price to pay if it meant I got to stay.
I closed my eyes and listened to the steady tick of the clock, letting the sound anchor me as sleep finally began to creep in. Tomorrow would come whether I was ready for it or not.
And when he came back—because I knew he would come back—I would still be here, ready to discover whatever his love required.